The Correspondence of Thomas Jefferson

By Subject

RESPONSIBILITY

When I recollect that at fourteen years of age, the whole care and
direction of myself was thrown on myself entirely, without a relation
or friend qualified to advise or guide me, and recollect the various
sorts of bad company with which I associated from time to time, I am
astonished I did not turn off with some of them, and become as
worthless to society as they were. I had the good fortune to become
acquainted very early with some characters of very high standing, and
to feel the incessant wish that I could ever become what they were.
Under temptations and difficulties, I would ask myself what would Dr.
Small, Mr. Wythe, Peyton Randolph do in this situation? What course in
it will insure me their approbation? I am certain that this mode of
deciding on my conduct, tended more to correctness than any reasoning
powers I possessed. Knowing the even and dignified line they pursued,
I could never doubt for a moment which of two courses would be in
character for them. Whereas, seeking the same object through a process
of moral reasoning, and with the jaundiced eye of youth, I should
often have erred. From the circumstances of my position, I was often
thrown into the society of horse racers, card players, fox hunters,
scientific and professional men, and of dignified men; and many a time
have I asked myself, in the enthusiastic moment of the death of a fox,
the victory of a favorite horse, the issue of a question eloquently
argued at the bar, or in the great council of the nation, well, which
of these kinds of reputation should I prefer? That of a horse jockey?
a fox hunter? an orator? or the honest advocate of my country's
rights? Be assured, my dear Jefferson, that these little returns into
ourselves, this self-catechising habit, is not trifling nor useless,
but leads to the prudent selection and steady pursuit of what is
right.

I have mentioned good humor as one of the preservatives of our peace
and tranquillity. It is among the most effectual, and its effect is so
well imitated and aided, artificially, by politeness, that this also
becomes an acquisition of first rate value. In truth, politeness is
artificial good humor, it covers the natural want of it, and ends by
rendering habitual a substitute nearly equivalent to the real virtue.
It is the practice of sacrificing to those whom we meet in society,
all the little conveniences and preferences which will gratify them,
and deprive us of nothing worth a moment's consideration; it is the
giving a pleasing and flattering turn to our expressions, which will
conciliate others, and make them pleased with us as well as
themselves. How cheap a price for the good will of another! When this
is in return for a rude thing said by another, it brings him to his
senses, it mortifies and corrects him in the most salutary way, and
places him at the feet of your good nature, in the eyes of the
company. But in stating prudential rules for our government in
society, I must not omit the important one of never entering into
dispute or argument with another. I never saw an instance of one of
two disputants convincing the other by argument. I have seen many, on
their getting warm, becoming rude, and shooting one another.
Conviction is the effect of our own dispassionate reasoning, either in
solitude, or weighing within ourselves, dispassionately, what we hear
from others, standing uncommitted in argument ourselves. It was one of
the rules which, above all others, made Doctor Franklin the most
amiable of men in society, "never to contradict anybody." If
he was urged to announce an opinion, he did it rather by asking
questions, as if for information, or by suggesting doubts. When I hear
another express an opinion which is not mine, I say to myself, he has
a right to his opinion, as I to mine; why should I question it? His
error does me no injury, and shall I become a Don Quixote, to bring
all men by force of argument to one opinion? If a fact be misstated,
it is probable he is gratified by a belief of it, and I have no right
to deprive him of the gratification. If he wants information, he will
ask it, and then I will give it in measured terms; but if he still
believes his own story, and shows a desire to dispute the fact with
me, I hear him and say nothing. It is his affair, not mine, if he
prefers error.